


Reflex

by seb_bucky



Series: Soccer Tryouts [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Captain America - Freeform, High School AU, James "Bucky" Barnes - Freeform, M/M, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, steve rogers - Freeform, stevebucky - Freeform, stevebucky high school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2178756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seb_bucky/pseuds/seb_bucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things go a little south for Steve at soccer tryouts...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflex

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky has convinced Steve to try out for the soccer team with him.

"I still don't like this idea Bucky," whispered Steve to Bucky while stretching out his legs. The team was in a circle doing stretches, and Bucky and Steve were right next to each other. "I don't even know how to play this game. They're all gonna laugh at me," said Steve with a look of horror in his eyes. He looked over at Bucky with sad scared eyes. The circle started to break up, and everyone was beginning to take their positions on the field for the scrimmage. Bucky let his arms hang by his sides and looked over at Steve. 

"You're gonna do fine," coaxed Bucky while leaning over and giving Steve a quick kiss on the lips. "Just do what I do."

"Alright," mumbled Steve as he followed Bucky onto the field. Bucky was a striker, so he was up at the top of the field with the other forwards. He told Steve to play midfield so Steve would be right behind him. This way Steve could watch Bucky and copy what he did. 

The coach blew his whistle and the game began. Bucky took the ball and started passing it to his teammates, moving the ball up the field. He got the ball on a breakaway and sprinted down the field. The whole formation started to shift with him, and Steve was struggling to keep up. 

Bucky scored! Some of the other guys ran over to give him high-fives. Steve was ready to pass out, so he used this time to catch his breath. Bucky jogged over to Steve, looking like he barely even broke a sweat. "You okay?" asked Bucky. "Fine... I'll be... okay... nice go... *cough* nice goal," are the few audible words Steve managed to spit out while he was bent over. "This time I'm gonna try to feed the ball to you," Bucky told him. Steve gave a slight nod to say he understood. Bucky patted him on the back and jogged back over to his spot. Everyone was ready to go again, well almost everyone. Steve finally stood up straight, still panting. The coach took that as he was ready enough, so he blew the whistle again. 

Bucky took the ball and passed it to Steve right from the start. The ball rolled to Steve's feet, and he stared at it in terror. A defender quickly came up to him and stole the ball. 

"It's alright Steve!" yelled Bucky, "You'll get it next time!" In a matter of minutes, Steve and Bucky's team managed to win the ball back and dribble it up the field once again. Steve was in the middle of the field somewhat near the goal. He was so lost. Bucky had the ball in the corner. He yelled, "Steve!" and crossed the ball into the middle. The ball soared through the air headed right at Steve. It was coming in high, a foot or two over Steve's head. Steve should have let it pass him so another player could take a shot, seeing as Steve clearly could not jump that high to head the ball. However, that is not at all what Steve does. When the ball was right over his head, what does Steve do?

Steve reaches up and grabs the ball. With his hands.

He didn't mean to, honest he didn't. It was just reflex, he thought. The game had come to a complete stop. Everyone turned and looked at Steve. They just stared at him for a minute, as if they couldn't believe someone would actually use their hands.

Bucky was still over in the corner of the field. His cheeks started to turn a light shade of pink. He had one hand on his hip, and the other was combing back his hair. He let out a deep breath and nervously looked everywhere but at Steve.

Steve had been staring at Bucky this whole time hoping for some kind of help from him. He turned around and saw all the guys staring at him. His cheeks started to turn a deep red color. He was frozen, couldn't move. He just stood there holding the ball waiting for something to happen.

Then one of the guys called out, "Way to go Rogers," and another cried out "This isn't football!" Even the goalie chimed in, "Hey! I'm the only one who can do that!" And then naturally another boy yelled back, "We'd be lucky if you actually caught the ball once in a while." Everyone just started to laugh; laugh at the jokes, at Steve, or just simply to fill the awkward silence. The only people who weren't laughing were Steve and Bucky. Bucky just stood there biting his lip, unsure of what to do.

Steve, however, knew exactly what to do. He dropped the ball and started running. That was the fastest he had ran in his entire life, mostly because he just wanted to get off the field before the tears started flooding in. And just as he thought, the moment his cleats came off the grass and hit the pavement, his whole face became one wet mess. He ran over to the school looking for somewhere, anywhere to go.

Bucky called out after him and soon started to follow.

*****some time passes*****

"Steve!" Bucky called out through the hallways of the school. It was later in the afternoon, so everyone had already gone home. "Steve!" He couldn't find Steve anywhere. He looked left down a hallway perpendicular to the one he just came from. Nothing. He looked right and saw a single shoe about 10 yards ahead of him. He walked over and saw it was a cleat. Not just any cleat, but Steve's cleat. He also saw it's other half a couple inches from a class room with the door cracked open less than an inch. He picked up the shoes and set them right outside the classroom door. He slowly opened the door and poked his head inside. "Steve? Are you in here?" Bucky called out. "Where are ya little fella?"

"I'm not that little *sniffle*," a voice emerged from somewhere behind Bucky. He still couldn't see Steve, so he spoke again in hopes of another response. "Okay, but you're MY fella. So why don't you tell me where you are?" Bucky walked to the back of the class room, looking behind desks and shelves.

A single sniffle was all he got in response, but it was enough. The sound had come from inside the closet. Bucky opened the door and found Steve sitting on the floor, legs tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees, with his head buried in his lap. Bucky crouched down to Steve's level. "Hey," Bucky said in a soft voice, "come here." Steve inched out of the closet without lifting his head. Bucky sat against the wall next to the opening and put his arm around Steve the second he came out. Steve turned his face into Bucky's shoulder and sobbed. "Shh," Bucky whispered into Steve's hair as he kissed the top of his head. "It'll be alright."

"No it won't Buck!" Steve snapped, "If I ever show my face on that field again, people will just keep laughing at me. I can't make people forget about how bad I am at this stuff. I can't just go out there and do something amazing to make up for it Buck. I'm not YOU!" Steve was practically yelling into Bucky's shirt while still crying. Bucky's jersey was turning into a puddle, but he didn't mind any of it. He knew how Steve felt. He felt the same way when it came to stuff like school; he wasn't as smart as the other kids. Steve was always patient with him when he couldn't figure out his math homework or didn't get the history lesson. Steve always made him feel smart when he finally understood the homework. He wanted to do the same for Steve now, but he wasn't really sure how. So, he just kept stroking Steve's arm with his cheek resting on top of Steve's head. 

When Steve finally stopped crying he picked up his head and looked at Bucky. Bucky looked back. He placed one finger under Steve's chin and drew his face closer. Then he kissed Steve's tear-stained lips. Bucky started to wipe Steve's cheeks with his thumb. Steve spoke in a barely audible whisper, "I'm sorry."

Bucky looked at him with confusion. "What? Why?"

"Because," said Steve with a sniffle, "I know that you really wanted us to do this together, but I don't think I can go back Buck. I can't face them, I can't have them laugh at me. Not again. I know you really wanted us to do this, so we could spend more time together, but I just can't. And I'm sorry for that."

"Aw Steve," Bucky said, "It's okay. You don't have to be sorry for that." Bucky held Steve tighter as Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky's stomach. The two of them sat perfectly still just like that for a solid fifteen minutes.

Then Bucky came up with a plan. He wasn't sure if it was a good plan, or if it was even gonna work. But, nonetheless, he had to try it.

"C'mon," said Bucky as he hopped to his feet. He grabbed Steve's hands and pulled him up. Bucky had a huge smile on his face.

"Why are you smiling?" asked Steve skeptically. Bucky grabbed Steve's face with both hands and kissed him one more time, long and hard.

"Just follow me, I have a plan," said Bucky as he ran out of the room clutching Steve's hand, with Steve tripping over his own two feet right behind him.


End file.
